Boxed In
by Griffin of the Gates
Summary: Spencer Reid ends up stranded in an elevator with a hyperactive eleven-year-old during a shootout. And in more ways than one, they're running out of time.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: I couldn't help myself. I needed to write just one Criminal Minds fanfiction to make myself feel better now that summer vacations started and I'm still blocked on all my other fictions.**

**Since this one is almost nearly finished anyway (though I'll be posting it in intervals) it will actually be completed. XD**

**Sorry for the filler chapter, the real fun will start a little later. Hope you enjoy!**

**Please rate & review. I like to know if I'm doing well (or not).**

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

**Albemarle, North Carolina **

If there was one place that Evangeline wanted to be at the present moment, it was not here. Not at the dinner table with this man. For one thing, she hated spinach. And she was starting to miss doing normal things, like going to school.

The masked man looked up from his dinner, narrowing his dark eyes at her. The young girl had not moved to eat anything in the entire time they had been at the table. Evangeline would have tried if her stomach hadn't been upset.

"Eva, sweetie, you need to eat. You don't want to make big brother feed you, do you?" he encouraged, placing another forkful in his mouth.

Fear was a terrible enemy and the little girl failed at pushing her's back. Her lip started quivering. Tears followed moments later.

"Stop it!" the man snapped.

His anger only made the ten-year-old sob louder. Within her cries, he could just barely make out words like 'Daddy' and 'Save me'. The man slammed his fists down on the table, startling the girl into momentary silence. A few seconds later he stomped off into the kitchen.

Alone for the first time, the little girl looked around with wide eyes. This place was so unfamiliar to her. The tears started to fall again as she remembered the terrible emptiness inside of her.

She vaguely acknowledged the presence behind her before something wrapped itself around her neck. "Mommy!" she cried aloud before she started struggling for breath. A moment later, she was silent.

"I'm sorry, I-I had to," the masked man muttered as the lifeless body sank to the floor,

He bent down and wiped a gentle hand across the angelic face.

"Please don't cry," he urged, "Big brother is here protect you,"

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><p><em>"True remorse is never just a regret over consequence; it is a regret over motive."<em>

_- Mignon McLaughlin_

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><p>"The media calls him Big Brother,"<p>

Morgan looked at J. J. with incredulity in his eyes. He chuckled to himself. "Seriously?" Isn't that supposed to be the government?" he teased.

The blonde-haired woman turned her head to glare at him. She continued passing out the files to the other team members. Each popped open the seals and pulled out the pictures and papers within.

J. J. returned to her seat, her stomach rolling a little when she remembered she was on a plane. She watched as Morgan made the connection in his head when he saw a picture from the crime scene. The man frowned, staring at the gory picture.

"Your son has judged you unfit," he muttered aloud. The words were carved into the naked bodies of two adults positioned beside each other so that the message was easy to read.

He looked up at the others. "Parenticide?" he inquired.

Aaron Hotchner shook his head as he spread three nearly identical photos out on a small pullout table. The other team members leaned forward to see. From a far off glance, they looked exactly the same. Closer you could tell that the bodies were different. Each picture of another murdered family.

"Three different families, the Jones, the Walkers and the Yates," he began, his face twisted in a sour grimace as he pointed to each picture respectively.

"Each family had only one child, who incidentally all go missing after their parents' deaths…,"

He paused mid-sentence to shuffle through his papers to produce two more crime scene pictures. He laid these out on the table as well, covering up the original three. "They're eventually found dead a few days later,"

Each member took a moment to look closely at the crime scene pictures. None of them could deny that they all felt a little weirded out by the respectful, almost affectionate placement of the children's bodies in relation to the gruesome slaughter of the parents. Looking up from the picture of Evangeline Jones, Gideon continued to fill in the rest of the information.

"The Yates family was found murdered two days ago. Their eleven-year-old daughter Dawn is still missing," he explained.

Everyone exchanged worried glances with each other as they realized how rushed they were going to be to make a profile. At least if they didn't want another murdered kid in their files.

"How long does she have?" Prentiss asked from where she had sat quietly for most of the flight.

Gideon shrugged. "The coroner said that he could trace Evangeline's time of death to only a day after her family's, but Matthew was alive for at least an entire week before he was killed,"

There was nothing but the sound of the wind outside the plane and the roaring of the engines as the team pondered on the terrible outcome of an unpredictable UnSub. Suddenly, Reid looked up from the file he was reading on one of the victims.

"It's their behavior, the children's…," he stated, "It decides how long they're kept alive,"

"You mean, how much they resisted being kidnapped?" asked Morgan.

The team's resident genius nodded slowly. He was pondering on his own thoughts, looking for any flaws in his theory. "He's looking for someone to play into his fantasy,"

As a father Hotch could see almost instantly what kind of _fantasy _could be playing out in the UnSub's head. It made him sick just thinking about it. He felt someone staring at him and looked up. It was Gideon. The man knew what Hotch had been thinking; he turned to the others and took in their cheerless expressions.

"We need to prepare for what we might find," he warned, "Dawn might already be dead,"

Everyone nodded slowly, each secretly hoping that there might be some miracle that saved the little girl. Nevertheless, miracles in their line of work were few and far between. None of them could rely on it.

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><p>She hadn't stopped to put on shoes, she had not had time to stop and find them. Now her feet were starting to hurt. Stopping wasn't really on the little girl's list of plans. She had to keep going or he might catch up with her. There was no telling how long he would be asleep.<p>

It was good that she hadn't taken a single dose of Ritalin since all of this had started. Without her medication she was much more aware of everything around her, she could keep up with everything. It also meant she had much more energy.

Up ahead she saw a house with the light still on. Trusting someone was the last thing she was ready to do right now, but she realized she really had no choice. Unless she was up for running a few more miles. Her legs protested at the thought.

The young girl paused at the side of the road, looking both ways before she crossed. It wouldn't do for her to get hit by a car now, not after all she had been through. Slamming her fist against the wooden door, the girl suddenly realized how exhausted she was.

She nearly cried out when the door finally flew open and she couldn't push back the sudden images of her dead family that flashed through her head. Knees failing, she collapsed, on the doorstep of some stranger.

The stranger sounded worried as she called for her husband. The little girl's shirt was covered in blood, but it did not look to be her own. She bent down and tried to comfort the gasping girl. Her lungs felt like they were being squeezed, she couldn't breathe.

"Where are your parents?" the woman asked her just as her husband appeared behind her.

Through a series of strangled breaths the little girl choked out, "Can't breathe, inhaler…"

Her husband disappeared hurriedly into the living room and returned with a child's inhaler. Both of the adults knew better than to give their child's medication to someone else, but this was an emergency. It was miraculous that they even had an inhaler at all since the girl's asthma seemed severe.

The little girl shrunk back at the very shadow of the man. Anyone that tall was foreboding to her at the moment. The strange woman signaled her husband to give them some room. He backed away slowly. Meanwhile the little girl tried to take a deep breath and failed, clawing at her neck as if something was choking her.

Gently, the woman pressed the inhaler into the girl's mouth, coaxing her to take a deep breath. The girl complied, her eyes puffy with frightened tears. The medication exited the in its aerosol form and with another puff, the girl began to feel her lungs release.

"Can you tell us your name, sweetheart?" the woman inquired softly when the girl's breathing returned to normal.

The young girl sniffled and tried to keep from sobbing as she hoarsely answered, "Dawn…Dawn Yates,"

Just one look to her husband and the woman confirmed the suspicion. He disappeared from her vision to call the police as the woman gathered the little girl into her arms.

"Everything's going to be okay," she promised, "You're safe now,"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Entering the police department, the team could already tell that this was going to be one of those cases where the local law enforcement did not want to cooperate. While Chief Winters had called them in to help, the rest of her officers felt like the BAU was stepping into their territory and making them look incompetent.

No one needed to ask to realize that when they walked in. The profilers could see it on each officer's face. A mixture of fear, resentment and skepticism all filled the facial features of each man and woman.

Luckily, they were rescued by the awkwardness by Chief Winters herself. She was a gaunt woman with long black hair pulled up in a bun. Her face was pale and serious, her eyes dark brown. The woman radiated 'workaholic' from the way she failed to smile, even falsely and the white line where a wedding band had been recently removed.

The Chief shook hands with each profiler and introduced herself as Holly Winters. Morgan tried not to find humor in her name as he often did. Humor was what got him through the job, he needed it. Nevertheless, he felt now was not the time.

Gideon in turn quickly introduced each member of the team, stressing Spencer Reid's title as Doctor. He definitely wanted the kid to be respected here as it seemed the team as a whole was going to get very little as it was.

Behind Winters towered her deputy whom she introduced as Officer David Houser. He was a tall, bulky man with a military buzz cut. Overall, the man reminded the team of a pro wrestler. He was going to be trouble, that was obvious from the moment Gideon held out his hand to shake Houser's.

Houser stalked off to show them the office and Winters tried to explain his attitude. Gideon lips quirked into a weak smile.

"Happens a lot with the local PDs," he assured her, letting her know that it was not going to completely impede their work.

"Wish it happened a little less," Morgan put in.

Nodding, Winters followed the profilers and her deputy into a conference room that they had set aside for the team. She opened up a new set of files and laid the pictures out on the table. One set was of a new crime scene. A new family, the team realized with dread.

"Another family, already?" Prentiss inquired, the disdain obvious in her tone.

Winters nodded, picking up a picture of a ten-year-old little boy. He was wearing a baseball uniform, carrying a bat and smiling, carefree as a child was supposed to be.

"Travis Miller was presumed missing after his parents were found murdered early this morning," she explained.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched as the other agents spread out to set up the room to their needs. As much as she was annoyed at having to call them in to help, she couldn't deny that they were focused on the job. She was so enthralled by their teamwork and motivation that she didn't hear Agent Hotchner ask her a question.

Turning her head the woman gave him a little 'hmm' to show she had not heard him the first time.

Hotch felt his insides churn at the thought of asking his question again. No matter how many years he worked this job, there was no avoiding the dread at hearing the answer to the constant question.

"What about the Yates' daughter?"

Winter's eyes almost twinkled as she replied with the closest to joy that the team was sure she could muster, "She was found last night,"

It hadn't even been that long. The killer was getting more and more unpredictable. He was starting to feel cornered or rushed. Disconcerted by the woman's cheery nature when she gave them the news, Gideon and Hotch exchanged concerned looks. Seeing them, the woman realized her mistake.

"Don't worry, she was found alive. Unhurt. She ran to the house of a family not two miles from here, they called us,"

The relief was almost instant in each agent's minds. Of course that did leave a feeling of confusion as to why the killer would just let the girl go. His past murders did not seem to add up. His MO was changing and that could be dangerous.

Officer Houser threw Morgan a dirty look. "See, we have full control over this case. We don't need your help,"

Before the tension could escalate any further, Winters clicked her fingers at her officer and signaled him out of the room. He stomped out without another word, fuming.

"Did you interview her?" a female voice piped up, trying to move the proceedings on from the tension in the station.

All eyes turned to Prentiss. The Chief hesitated to roll her eyes at what she considered to be a foolish question.

"Of course," she replied, "She couldn't remember anything but running, she said. We're convinced that she hid and ran for help when her family was attacked,"

"That would explain the sudden attack on another family without so much of a day for emotional cool down," Reid wondered aloud. He looked up, not surprised to find everyone looking at him again, waiting for an explanation. "He lost his plaything, the entire reason he went after the family. He needed to find a new plaything and soon, apparently,"

The agents were all agreeing with him as Morgan placed in his piece of the puzzle. "That means he plans ahead,"

He stood up and pointed at each message carved into the backs of the parents.

"He's convinced the adults are all unfit for parenting. He's had to have watched these families for longer than a day," he explained.

So far, this killer was starting to make each of the members a little uncomfortable, as most of them did. The man seemed to be almost as organized as he was disorganized. The parents were stabbed to death, a message carved into their bodies, yet there was planning behind it. The message had been thought out ahead of time, the families chosen specifically.

The agents looked over the files for hours, reading and looking, examining each and every detail that they could see. Slowly but surely that began to form small pieces of their profile. The man was a planner when it came to the parents, but the children's deaths almost seemed spontaneous. The different times at which he killed them based it off the children's behavior, just as Reid had said.

Yet he seemed almost reverent with the children's bodies in contrast to the adults. Despite that, there was no evidence on any of the autopsies or anything that could suggest that their killer had any sexual motivation for any of his crimes. As far as anyone could tell, the children had not been harmed except by strangulation at the end. Other than that, the killer seemed to treat them kindly.

"He cares about them," Reid finally said, shattering the silence that had pervaded the conference room for over an hour.

Everyone looked up from their work. Reid stood up going to the board to examine the pictures they had hung up. They had all been arranged by family, subtitled with the date of death. He pointed to a picture of the Walker family.

"He mutilates the parents with his message and leaves them uncovered for all to see," he moved his finger to the picture of Matthew. He was able to ignore the dead body of the child. The way the killer placed the body made it look like he was only sleeping. "But he covers and hides the bodies of the children, leaving his message on a nametag tacked to the children's shirts with the words 'forgive me' written in marker,"

Reid turned to look at the mixture of curious and confused expressions.

"He doesn't _want _to hurt the children, he wants to protect them," Morgan said, catching on.

The younger agent smiled and nodded, "Exactly,"

As Reid took his seat, he looked up as someone else stood. It was Hotch. The lead agent surveyed his team, grouping them in his head according to what he knew about them. He leaned absently on the back of an empty chair.

"I think we need to talk to Dawn," he turned his head to look at Winters, "Where is she now?"

The woman was surprisingly quick to answer which Hotch had not expected. Most children whose families were murdered were sent into the custody of Child Services who could easily lose the children in their systems.

"With her uncle, he lives here in Albemarle,"

Hotch nodded. "We need to have him come up here,"

The Chief nodded and disappeared to make the phone call. Having returned earlier and heard the entire conversation, Houser was still skeptical. He chose that moment to interrupt Hotch's orders to snort.

"We already interviewed the kid, she couldn't remember anything. What more do you think you can get out of her that we didn't?" he asked.

Hotch turned to look at the Officer. He was not one to be easily angered and it was even harder to show it on his face. But at that moment, the look in his eyes was dark as he glared at the Officer.

Prentiss stepped in before her supervisor lost his cool. "She might have had time to recollect what happened,"

"She probably was suffering from PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder," Reid concurred.

"I know what PTSD is, smarty-pants," the officer sneered, "I just don't see how it matters in this case,"

The entire team was ready to blow. Luckily, Hotch had regained his cool by then and interjected himself back into the conversation to reprimand the younger man. He moved a little closer, not too close, but enough to seem threatening in the only way Aaron Hotchner could. When he spoke, his voice was even quieter than normal and it still did not sound like he was angry at all.

"I understand that you feel like we're making you and your fellow officers look incapable of doing your jobs. But we're only here to help. Now, your attitude towards me and Agent Gideon are one thing," Hotch waved a hand at the other agents, "But disrespecting _any _member of this team is a sure fire way to get demoted,"

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed.


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER: Criminal Minds & its characters do not belong to me. If they did...the show would probably suck. XD**

**Here's another chapter for you. I probably should learn to space these out for longer than a day, but its driving me crazy knowing I have the chapters on my computer just waiting, lonely. But...I don't want to post them all at the same time. Gah! Writer's Curse!**

**Either way, enjoy. The best part is coming up.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

When a suitable amount of time had passed while Hotch towered figuratively over the stronger man, he turned around. When he spoke again, his voice was back to normal, "Now, Gideon, Prentiss and Morgan will go to the Miller household and examine the crime scene,"

Hotch turned to look intuitively at the Officer still behind him. Morgan thought faintly that he was surprised he hadn't run off to change his pants. "Officer Houser, would you mind accompanying them?"

"Not at all," the pale-faced man managed to force out.

Two of the three who had been given orders began to collect their files together while Gideon looked back at Hotch with curious eyes. The supervisory agent knew what question lied there.

"Reid and I will interview Dawn and her uncle while J.J. fights off the press waiting outside," he finished, the faint ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Might have to take a baseball bat to their cameras," Morgan teased as he followed Gideon out of the room. The blonde woman just rolled her eyes.

Hotch looked over to his remaining agents, eyes narrowing at the awkward way Reid was holding himself. He tried not to think too much about it as he wandered off to see what luck Winters was having getting in touch with the uncle.

Noticing her friend's discomfort, which was normal, but not usually obvious, J. J. leaned her head to look at the paper he was looking over. It was Dawn's medical files.

"Something tells me you're not thinking about that little girl's asthma," she insisted.

Startled by her closeness, the man jumped back. Absently he tried to fix the files on the table.

"Spence?" J.J. pushed, curious to know what was bothering him all of a sudden.

The man looked up, a look of faint anxiety in his eyes. "Hotch is keeping me here. He knows how much children hate me," he groaned.

"Is that fact, Mr. Genius?" J.J asked.

Reid watched her quietly with pleading eyes. Since he had not reply with something statistical saying that 95% of children were afraid of smart people, she was sure it wasn't. She sighed and put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"How could anyone not like you?"

"You've never seen children around me," was his solemn reply.

The conversation was put to a halt when Hotch poked his head back into the office. He pointed a finger at Reid and signaled him to follow. Sighing, the young man pulled himself to his feet, nervously fingering his messenger bag.

"It'll be okay, Spence," the woman assured him as he disappeared into the main room.

Hotch led his young protégé to where a middle-aged man with short brown hair was standing, his hands shoved into his pockets. Just from that little piece of body language, Reid could tell that the man didn't want to be here.

"Mr. Yates, I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with the F.B.I," he introduced, "And this is Special Agent, Dr. Spencer Reid,"

Once again, the younger man still found the three-second stare awkward as the man tried to figure out how Reid could be referred to as 'Doctor'. This time though, they shook hands and neither Hotch nor Reid made any move to explain. The man didn't push the subject either. Furtively, Reid searched for the little girl, waiting to hear her frightened scream. He probably was over exaggerating his image of her reaction, but he didn't care.

"Where is Dawn?" Hotch asked the obvious question.

The uncle quirked an eyebrow as if the agent had just asked him some stupid question. He crossed his arms before looking back at Hotch and Reid.

"At school," he replied, "Where most children go during the day,"

Reid spoke up which startled and the man. "You're offended that we asked. The way you crossed your arms protectively over yourself tells us that," he observed, continuing, "Your niece suffered the loss of her family and was suspected to have been kidnapped by and escaped a serial killer less than twenty-four hours ago. And you sent her to school,"

"I'm well aware of that, Doctor," the man hissed, "However, Dawn's life runs on strict routine. School is a normal part of that routine and there would be dire consequences if she does not follow that routine,"

Remembering his mother, Reid was almost ready to speak up on behalf of the young child, but his supervisor waved him down.

"Mr. Yates, we need to question your niece about the events of the past forty-eight hours and we may have to interrupt her routine to do that,"

Seeing the older man opening his mouth to argue Reid placed himself back into the conversation, much calmer now. "Is there any way that this…routine, involves medication?"

The uncle nodded, "Ritalin,"

Reid was nodding away at this, putting pieces of the profile puzzle together in his head. Realizing that his agent had found something to fit into the profile, Hotch pulled Reid aside and asked about it.

"You know how I said that he wanted someone to play into his fantasy. A child taking Ritalin is more likely to listen to commands than one whose not," the young man explained, "There's a high probability that she was in fact taken by the killer, convinced him into trusting her and escaped,"

Nodding, Hotch formed a plan while Reid talked.

"It's important that we talk to her and get her version of events," Hotch replied.

The two agents returned to where Mr. Yates was waiting, impatiently.

"Mr. Yates, I'm sending Dr. Reid here to go pick up your niece,"

At this surprising change of events, Reid looked up in shock. It took everything he had not to break down in front of the uncle and beg Hotch to take back the order. When Mr. Yates began to protest, Reid was hoping that his supervisor would listen. Maybe he could convince him not to send him because of his driving.

Hotch waved off all complaints with an authoritative hand. "Dawn might be danger," he said simply.

The uncle fell silent in his surprise. Though Reid had not stopped to think about it at first, he realized its truth. When Mr. Yates began to voice his confusion, he was able to step in and explain for Hotch who had not actually thought it entirely through.

"It is likely that your niece escaped the killer and he may come after her again," the man explained.

Slowly nodding his acquiescence, the uncle allowed himself to be guided by J.J. for a briefing. As soon as the man was gone, Reid shared his concerns with Hotch.

"You want me to pick her up? Hotch, I'm terrible with children, they hate me!"

If the other agent hadn't known better he would have said that Reid sounded like he was on the verge of tears. To think that his youngest team member might have a phobia of children was only slightly absurd.

"Reid, she's been traumatized. Not to mention she's an introvert with ADHD, you're more-,"

Spencer uncharacteristically interrupted him, an edge of bitterness in his tone, "Experienced with the psychotic and socially inept?"

A heavy sigh gave Hotch three seconds to come up with a better argument.

"You're closer to her age and may be able to relate better. Our killer was a muscular man, so she's likely to be scared of someone like Morgan or Gideon or even me,"

Somewhat comforted by the image of a little girl running away from Hotch, the young man nodded, completely ignoring what could be taken as an insult in his supervisor's explanation. He was still a little nervous, but he was at least prepared to do what he had been ordered.

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><p>Luckily, they had passed the school on the way to the police station and Reid was able to remember exactly where it was. Pulling into a visitor's parking spot, he turned off the engine. There he sat in the driver's seat of the SUV taking deep breaths.<p>

_They're just children. They can't hurt you. _

Realizing he was still sitting in the vehicle, he sighed. He opened the door and locked it behind him. Entering the building made faint memories of high school flash through his mind. Reid did everything he could to keep them back.

First of all, this was only an elementary school. Second, those memories were not that happy and he would rather not remember them at all.

The secretary in the office looked at Reid with suspicion. He could see that her finger was actually resting over the 911 speed-dial code on the phone. Forcing a smile as he approached, he pulled out his I.D. and showed it to her.

"Dr. Spender Reid…" she read aloud. The woman looked him over with her scrutinizing gaze. Once again, he felt that underlying annoyance that he got when people inquired about his Doctorates.

He nodded in reply to his name. "I need to pick up Dawn Yates. It's a matter of her personal safety,"

Still slightly suspicious, the woman scanned the computer for a moment, looking for the young girl's records. Eventually, she picked up the phone and dialed a three-digit number. Reid could only guess that it was to the room that the girl was in currently.

"Mrs. Donne, can you send Dawn Yates to the office to sign out," she asked, politely.

In a few seconds, whatever the teacher had to tell her made the secretary's frown deepen. Shuffling his feet, Reid felt his stomach do a somersault. Maybe he was too late. He looked up when the secretary hung up the phone and turned her concerned gaze towards the agent.

"Dawn went to the bathroom over thirty minutes ago and hasn't returned,"

The feeling in Reid's stomach right then was something akin to the feeling he got when he ate seafood. And it wasn't a good feeling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Once upon a time the Miller household had been a beautiful Tudor house that some people would kill to have the money to afford. Now, it would be a miracle if a buyer even showed up. There was something about knowing someone had died inside a house that made people reluctant to buy it. Make the death a homicide and the city had a motive for knocking the place down.

Only one room showed any signs of the tragedy that had occurred. Pools of blood spotted the living room floor. Not all of it was dry yet, so the agents skirted around the pools, aware of each step they took. Gideon slowly meandered up the stairs, noticing the bloody tracks leading up and down them.

Upstairs there were only two bedrooms, Travis' and his parent's bedroom. Just from the top of the stairs, the older agent could see the difference. The door to Travis' room was closed while the door to the parent's room had been kicked in. The lock was destroyed.

_Who would he go after first? Travis or the parents'? _he asked himself.

Making his decision, Gideon entered the parent's room first. Everything in this room told him that there had been a struggle. The mother had gone first. From the disarray of the blankets, the man could tell that their killer had dragged the woman from her bed. The husband had jumped out of bed, his portion of the blanket folding over neatly in contrast to the kicked around heap on the wife's side.

The wife had kicked and struggled, knocking over everything in her path. A small patch of blood told Gideon when the father had been stabbed in the chest. More than likely he had attacked the killer, defending his wife. Wounded, he had waited helplessly for the killer to drag his wife away and then return for him.

A shiver ran down the agent's spine. How could the father have even known the killer would come back? He could have left him there to die slowly while he stole off with his son in the night. Trying not to dwell to long on the thought, Gideon continued. He followed the path of chaos out of the room and into the hallway. Here he paused to look down the stairs to confirm his thoughts.

The bloody boot prints made two paths up the stairs. The killer had indeed killed the mother first and returned for the father. Seeing him, Prentiss approached the stairwell.

"He tracked blood all through this room," she said.

Gideon nodded, "Upstairs too,"

The dark-haired woman nodded before returning to examining the scene downstairs. Turning away, Gideon reached out with gloved hands to open the door to Travis' room. He paused, looking down. In the pictures, a bloody towel had been placed like a welcome mat in front of the door. Having examined it closely earlier, he had found that it held the faint prints of two shoes continuously wiped.

_What kind of killer wipes the blood off his shoes before entering a room? _Gideon asked himself.

Filing it in his brain for later use, he entered the room. The sight before him made everything in the other rooms seem like another planet. Travis' room was clean of all evidence. There was nothing to lead anyone to suspect that anyone had been killed. No bloody footprints, no evidence of a struggle.

Thinking like the killer, Gideon started towards the bed. Travis had not been asleep. He had been sitting up before being grabbed. The blankets weren't terribly disorganized; it looked like the little boy had only slipped off to the bathroom. Or been picked up and carried, but not dragged. Travis had either been drugged or he had gone willingly with his parents' killer.

Drugging the little boy wouldn't have been difficult, however, there was still a lack of evidence to prove it. If the killer had tried to drug the boy after entering the room, he would have struggled. The boy had obviously been awake when the killer came in.

"What child doesn't come running when his mother screams?" he muttered to himself.

Behind him someone knocked on the open door. Gideon turned to see Morgan standing there, examining the room with a few quick glances.

"This is the kid's room?" he asked doubtfully.

The older agent nodded, his mouth quirking into a sour smile. "Doesn't look like a killer walked through here, does it?"

Morgan shook his head before Gideon looked up at him, his eyes absently staring at the other agent's phone.

"Oh, Garcia called," he began, "All our families have different banks, jobs, preferences, but they all have one thing in common,"

Gideon's eyebrows raised a little as he waited for the answer. He had a suspicion he knew what it was going to be.

"They were all being investigated by child services,"

Nodding away, the older agent turned back to the boy's bed. Well he had been right. It explained a lot about why the boy had not come running. More than likely, he had been afraid of the consequences. What child wouldn't consider turning to an adult they trusted when they couldn't trust their own family?

Suddenly, everything in the puzzle fell into place. Gideon lifted his head to look at Morgan, who was still standing in the doorway.

"Let's go,"

The surprise was written all over the other agent's face. He opened his mouth to question the order before Gideon interrupted him.

"Call Hotch, tell him we'll be presenting the profile in thirty minutes," the man ordered.

Shaking his head in confusion, Morgan followed the agent, already dialing his supervisor on the phone.

* * *

><p>Everything in Reid told him that it was over. He had failed his duty to protect. He had been too late to keep the girl from getting snatched again. A piece of him wanted to believe he was overreacting. Maybe the girl wasn't in the mood to face the world today. After all, she had been through a harrowing ordeal in the past few days.<p>

From the crime scene photos of the Yates' house, he remembered seeing footsteps in the blood. The killer had been wearing boots, but a pair of small feet had slipped through the gory redness. Dawn had come downstairs and she had undoubtedly seen the horror of her parents' murders, despite the original intention of the killer. That memory alone was enough to send any kid running to the bathroom sick.

Unable to convince himself that he was too late, Reid looked to the secretary again.

"Call her up here," he demanded, voice hoarse.

The secretary stared at him with wide eyes as if she was still waiting for him to give her a direction to go in. The man waved a hand at the intercom.

"Jus-Just make an announcement, tell her she's being picked up or something like that!"

The more he waited and pondered on all the things that could have happened, the closer he was to losing his mind. He watched with suspicious eyes as the secretary reached for the phone to use the intercom. Above him he heard the message that echoed throughout the entire school.

"Dawn Yates, would you please come to the office to sign out?"

Reid hoped that the killer was nowhere near her and that if Dawn was still capable, that she would come. Time ticked by in agonizingly slow-motion. What seemed like hours was really only a minute or two. A minute or two that it took for the young girl to appear at the doorway of the office.

As the door opened and Dawn walked in, the agent felt relief rush over him. The girl didn't stop moving, she did not even look at him. She walked right past him, her eyes glancing at every corner suspiciously, never stopping at one place for longer than a second.

Hesitantly she asked the secretary who was there to pick her up. Her voice was hoarse and quiet. She looked like she hadn't slept and a faint voice told Reid that he doubted he would either if he had seen his parents murdered. What aroused his curiosity was the key hanging like a charm around her neck.

The secretary waved a hand at him and he stepped forward to do his own introduction. He held out his hand, wishing that he hadn't noticed he was shaking a little bit.

_They can smell fear! _he chastised himself.

So far the girl had not taken off screaming, that was a good sign. He forced a weak smile.

"Hi Dawn. My name's Spencer Reid, I'm with the-,"

"Taylor, would you mind copying these for me, I've got an appointment today,"

Dawn's head spun at the sound of the new voice. A young male teacher had entered the office through the back. Reid watched the drastic effect it had on her. All the color drained from the girl's face. He heard a squeak as she choked back a scream before she turned and ran back out the office door.

Turning, Reid saw the teacher and the secretary looking at him. The teacher was extremely tall and muscular, but he had the kind face of someone you could trust. Reid did not take the time to think on it anymore before he realized he was still in the office.

His feet moved without his knowledge until he found himself running after the light-footed girl.

_I told Hotch this would happen! _he groaned.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

When the agents and their police escort returned, the police station was a flurry of activity. Detectives were rushing back and forth with papers. The remaining BAU agents were trying their best to set up the bulletin board in the main area.

Morgan and Prentiss rushed off to go help J.J. Eyes scanning the room, Gideon eventually found the lead supervisor and walked towards him. The look in Hotch's eyes when he closed in was one of complete curiosity and worry. As the two watched the chaos before them, Hotch asked out of the corner of his mouth.

"Are you sure about this?"

There was nothing but a nod. The dark haired man nodded in return, trusting the older agent. He signaled the rest of the team to meet him in the conference room. The last one in, Morgan shut the door to the sounds outside.

Gideon looked at each member's face, counting off heads like a school teacher. For a moment, he realized someone was missing. He recounted, but came up with the same number. He tried to think of you was missing and finally it came to him.

"Where's Reid?" he asked.

Without missing a beat, Hotch replied, "I sent him to the school to pick up Dawn,"

The man nodded absently. He had already considered waiting for the young girl's questioning before he allowed his agents to present the profile. After thinking about it long and hard on the drive back, he had realized nothing the girl would say would make it any different. Not really. More than likely, he was sure the girl would only be able to confirm the profile.

"We'll go on without him,"

Hotch remaining impassive, but more than one eyebrow rose at the table. Before anyone could say anything in disagreement, Gideon began. It took them the rest of the time they had before their thirty-minute deadline to talk over the profile and get everyone else's opinion. Once finished, the older agent realized he had been right. There was enough from each of them to make an entire profile.

A moment later, there was a knock on the conference room door. Officer Houser poked his head in. He looked a whole lot more benign than earlier, having been more than a little frightened by Hotch's confrontation.

"We're ready for you," he told them.

Looking around at the agents to see if they were ready, Gideon watched as each agent nodded. He turned to look at the cop before telling him they would be out there in a moment.

Each of them poured out of the room, startled to see how calm it had become. Officers and Detectives alike were sitting and standing, patiently waiting for the members to begin. At one of the desks, Hotch could see the wary-eyed uncle of Dawn Yates, waiting to hear who had killed his brother.

Standing before the assembled crowd, J.J began with a normal opening, almost like a disclaimer.

"You must understand that a profile is not definite and should only be used as a guideline to finding the suspect…"

Standing behind his agents, Hotch looked around, a little uneasy that Reid was not back yet. He had been gone for longer than an hour now. The only things he could think would hold the agent up was traffic and the school administration. But he had a suspicion Reid would have called him to let him know if he was going to be held up.

Realizing it was his turn to begin the profile, he stepped forward. He tried to, but for the life of him he couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened at the school.

* * *

><p>Even after all his training at the academy and the time he had spent with the team, Spencer Reid found it extremely difficult to keep up with the eleven year old. She ran down the halls, through empty classroom doors and up the stairs.<p>

Running up the stairs after her, Reid had to pause to survey his surroundings. The girl had disappeared. Stifling a curse, he tried to think. He looked around at the area around him and slowly started down the hall. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a sign to the girl's bathroom, right beside the top of the stairs.

Unsure of how much the girl would trust him if he had to enter the girl's bathroom after her, Reid came up with a plan. Walking back to the stairs, he started down them until he was out of sight of the bathroom door. There he stopped and started walking in place, making each footstep sound fainter than the first until it faded into silence. If he had not been worried, he would have laughed at the foolishness of it all.

He waited for no longer than a minute before the girl poked her head out of the bathroom. Curiously, he noticed that she had removed the key from around her neck and was clutching it close to her. As if the key could keep her safe. Reid found himself making a funny face of confusion. He had heard of children with safety blankets, but never children with safety keys.

Quietly, Reid stepped back up the few stairs he had gone down. She was pretty aware of her surroundings, he would give her that. He hadn't expected her to see him so quickly or to hear his footsteps. Sure enough though, no sooner had he stepped on the landing of the second floor did she turn around to see him.

She stood frozen where she was for a second, as if wondering if he was friend or foe. Dawn must have considered him a foe because when he took a step towards her, she bolted again.

"Dawn, wait!" he cried out.

The young girl ignored him. This time it seemed that she actually had somewhere to go. Running to the end of the hallway, she stopped in front of the emergency elevator. The key in her hand disappeared into a locking mechanism where the button would have been on a normal one.

Reid tried to run a little faster. He heard the elevator ping as he watched the girl remove the key and step inside. He was right there, a few more feet, he told himself. He reached the elevator just in time for the metal doors to close in his face.

Without pausing to think about the consequences this would have on his body tomorrow, the agent turned around and ran back to the stairs, hurrying to the first floor elevator. He could only hope he would finally catch her there.

* * *

><p>Back in the office, Taylor Hurley had found herself in a spot of trouble. Startled by the reaction little Dawn had had, she had been ready to make an announcement for the teachers to convince her to stay put somewhere. The F.B.I. agent had said that he was coming to pick her up for her own safety, which meant that if the little girl was in danger, there was a chance that everyone in the school was in danger.<p>

She hadn't expected to find herself in the danger she had imagined.

"Henry, Henry, you don't have to do this," she pleaded, frozen in her chair.

The sharp chill from the gun barrel did not fade. The teacher with the gun did not move from where he stood, the gun placed behind the secretary's neck, his eyes scanning the computer screen. At first he didn't even do anything to acknowledge he had even heard her, until he finally spoke.

"I have to protect her, I won't lose her again," he replied, his voice emotional.

"Henry-,"

The secretary cringed when the man pressed the gun harder into the back of her neck.

"Quiet!" he snapped, waiting to see if she would obey. When she didn't open her mouth to speak again, he continued, "Where did she go?"

Taylor shrugged. The gun barrel pressed deeper and she felt a shiver run down her spine. Her voice came out in a pleading stutter.

"Plea-Please, Dawn's clever. She'll never let that-that agent get her. She'll think of a way to slip past him,"

For a moment there was complete silence. Taylor found herself praying, not ready to lose her life to a man she had often had a few laughs with in the lounge. Suddenly, there was a loud gunshot followed quickly by another. The secretary screamed, her ears ringing as the room went dark and glass rained to the floor.

When she looked up again, the man was gone. Taylor didn't hesitate to run for the principal to report a code blue. If there was a shooter loose in the school, they had to do everything they could to get the children out safely.

Henry was already making his way towards the main hall. He remembered seeing the key around his little doll's neck. Clever little Dawn had a secret hiding place. Henry only knew because he'd seen her go there before, the day he'd been watching her, following her. The elevator. That was where he headed first.

"Don't worry Dawn, big brother's coming," he whispered to himself.

* * *

><p>Morgan had stepped forward to continue the profile where Hotch left off after giving the simple appearance list. They had already mentioned that their killer was a tall muscular male who worked a middle-class job and lived in an average home. He was not married and had no kids of his own though he had often tried to date, but had been unable to keep a companion.<p>

"This UnSub will have been neglected or abused by his parental figures and will have lost a younger sibling or more due to this neglect," he presented.

The difference in each person's face was something normal to Morgan. The facial features were based on how each person took the news. Some were surprised to hear it while others had the suspicion that they should have realized it and others felt that they had already known that little sliver of information.

Trying not to dwell too much on it, the agent continued. "He will have taken a job where he gets to work with children, around the age of our victims. He also is an intricate planner and probably works a job where planning months in advance is paramount,"

Stepping back, the man relinquished his spot to Prentiss with her tidbit.

"Based on his past, our UnSub believes it's his task to protect these children from their parents," she began.

Officer Houser decided to interject a question. "How can you tell?" he demanded to know.

Seeing that Prentiss was not fit to answer, Hotch stepped forward. Instantly, the officer regretted he had asked the question. The look in the BAU supervisor's eyes could burn a hole in a wall.

"Our UnSub stabs the parents repeatedly, mutilates their bodies, calling them 'unfit'. He feels nothing for them," Hotch began, "But he feels remorse for the children, he leaves a message begging for forgiveness,"

Another officer piped up, skepticism in his voice as he asked, "So you're saying our killer's a social worker or something?"

Gideon took over, eyes glittering with frustration. He shrugged his shoulders as he stepped forward. "He could be a social worker, a counselor, a teacher….anyone who works with children often,"

Someone else stood up to confront the group. The entire team felt annoyance eating at them. The profile was supposed to be a guideline to catching the killer, not a set in stone personality. If they would just let them finish, they would be one step closer to finding him.

Hotch was startled to see that it was Dawn's uncle. Having sat at the front of the office for the entire presentation, he had heard everything. His face was pale and sweaty. Despite his earlier explanation that his niece was a handful, he looked genuinely worried.

"Dawn said something about one of her teachers last night…a Mister-," he clicked his fingers as he tried to find the name in his memories, "Mr. Robins, she said."

The man suddenly froze where he stood and his face lost what little color it had left. One of the officers stepped forward to catch him as he fell back into his seat. He cradled his head in hands muttering aloud.

"Oh, god. It's him. He's the killer." He raised his head and Hotch felt a pang of sympathy when he saw the tears in his eyes, "The killer's at her school and I-I sent her there."

Before anyone could make a comment on his outburst, Chief Winters came rushing in. The look on her face was one of concern. Her eyes fell on her officers and then on the BAU team.

"There's been a shooting at the elementary school," she announced.

Following behind her, J.J. picked up a remote to a small television in the back of the room. The news reporters had already reached the scene. Children and teachers were pouring out of the school and the reporter was hurriedly reporting on what she had heard about a shooter in the school.

The Chief started ordering her officers to the school. J.J. meandered towards her teammates as the station erupted into chaos again. She looked around at the faces and counted them.

"Where's Reid?" she asked, curious.

Hotch's face was a dark mask of worry as he stared at the headline on the television.

"At the school," was his concerned reply.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The downstairs elevator was just opening when Reid appeared. The eleven year old girl was cowering in the far corner. She made no move to exit the elevator and the time ticked off as the doors threatened to close.

Pausing to think over how he wanted to handle this, the young agent tried to speak. After the girl's initial reaction, he was even more conscious about how he acted around her. He was doing his best to hide his fear, but he was doing a really bad job of it.

"Dawn…"

When the doors started to close, Reid realized he had no choice. He hated elevators. And children hated him. The little girl seemed positively horrified when he took a step into the metal box. The doors hesitated as he stepped through and then closed behind him.

Dawn watched him with wide eyes as the elevator started towards the second floor. Turning towards the child, Reid willed his mouth to move. Luckily for him, she decided to make the first move in the conversation.

"Who are you?" she questioned, distrust in eyes too young.

The elevator pulled to a stop at the second floor. Dawn let it stand open, waiting for an answer. Pulling out his badge to distract himself from where he was, Reid held it out for the girl to read. She reached out with hesitant hands to take it from him.

"Special Agent," she read aloud, looking up at him with a spark of curiosity in her eyes, "Like Perry?"

Reid stared at her in honest bewilderment. He didn't know a Perry. The little girl looked confused.

"Perry the Platypus?" she explained.

The doors to the elevator closed, startling the agent. He shrugged his shoulders a little, trying to ignore his complete confusion at what she was referring to.

"I don't think there's a platypus where I work, but I go by Reid," he replied bewildered, taking his badge from her and replacing it to its proper place.

She still had not moved from her corner. Reid wondered if the way he was towering over her was making her somewhat uncomfortable. Feeling the elevator shift underneath him, he decided it would be in everyone's best interests if he sat down anyway.

Crouching a little, he watched the girl's facial features closely. She did seem to show a slight twinge of relief when he was no longer looming over her. Swallowing, Reid took a deep breath before speaking.

"Dawn, you might be in danger here, at school. I was sent to come and take you to the police station. Your uncle's waiting for you."

The girl sighed a little and looked at the floor. "I told him," she said, her voice practically a sob.

"Told him what?" Reid asked, curious to know.

At the moment everyone else still thought that the little girl had gotten away. The reactions she was having told the agent differently. She had definitely been in the presence of the killer for long enough to gather a fear of him. Something threw him off though. The uncle had said that the little girl was on medication. Dawn didn't act like she was on medication.

Dawn lifted her head to look at the agent with suspicious eyes. She was sure that he wouldn't believe her. No one had so far. It was something about his eyes. The look in his eyes was different than most adults. He would believe her, she was sure of it.

"He's here," she whispered.

The agent did not react at first which confused the girl. He didn't try to tell her she was lying, but he didn't seem to agree with her either. The elevator was stopping at the first floor again and as the doors opened, she watched the agent get to his feet. Outside, the fire alarm was ringing.

"If he is, then we need to leave," he told her, holding out his hand.

Stiffly, the little girl nodded, grabbing his hand for help to get up. She turned towards the elevator controls and removed the key. Leading her out of the elevator, Reid felt his phone start vibrating. He reached for it, seeing the caller ID read 'Gideon'.

Everything that happened in the next few seconds was a blur to the agent. Dawn screamed, clutching to his leg in sudden fear. Looking up, Reid caught sight of a teacher heading towards them. He would have greeted the teacher, if a little awkwardly, had he not realized that he was the man from the office.

Reid felt his heart start racing as he pushed Dawn behind him. That was when he realized the man had a gun. A gun he was preparing to use. The agent could tell he'd have no time to grab his own, not if he needed to keep Dawn out of the line of fire.

"I'm her protector, not you!" screamed the teacher.

"Back!" Reid yelled.

He gave the little girl a rough push into the elevator before following her as a volley of bullets shot up the wall. The elevator door shut closed behind them.

Mr. Robins rushed forward to catch them, but he was too late. The elevator doors were already closed. He slammed an angry fist into the wall with a yell. He had let someone else take her away from him. Why did he have to keep losing them over and over again?

The teacher grumbled as he turned to rush up to the second floor. He gave a raging cry when he tripped and looked back to see the perpetrator. A lonely cell phone was lying there in the middle of the floor, back hanging limply off of it. Mr. Robins picked it up and placed the back on it, turning the phone back on.

Putting it in his pocket he smiled and started up the stairs. He'd make sure she never left his sight. Never again.

Upstairs, the children were running amok, trying to escape. Teachers tried valiantly to get a hold of them and direct them safely out of the building. Fear gave each child the notion to get away on their own. This didn't bother Mr. Robins. In fact, Henry could care less about the children. He let them get away.

Dawn was his little sister now. He would take good care of her and Travis. He'd never let them go again. He would make sure that no one ever hurt them either. Mr. Robins found the emergency elevator and waited.

Watching the elevator number, still perched at one, he pondered the FBI agent. He knew what he'd have to do when they came out. No one would stand in his way. No one would hurt his little sister ever again.

Not so long as he was around.

* * *

><p>The school grounds were crawling with teachers and students. Parents were collecting their children, screaming their names in worry. So far, two news crews had already pushed themselves into the chaos and were interviewing a pale-faced woman who was shaking uncontrollably.<p>

Gideon exited the SUV with a worried frown glued to his face. From the other vehicle Morgan approached him.

"Any word from Reid?"

"He's not answering his phone," Gideon replied with a shake of his head.

Searching out the leader of the police force here, the team split up into two pairs. As Gideon and Prentiss approached the line of media sharks, the shaky woman being questioned suddenly rushed towards them. At first what came out of her mouth was nothing but gibberish.

"Take a deep breath, ma'am," Prentiss advised her.

The woman did as she was asked and then tried again. "Are you with the FBI?" she asked them.

For a moment, Gideon hesitated to answer before finally nodding his head. The woman nodded, her pale face looking sickly up close.

"One of your agents was inside, Dawn ran off and he chased after her. Henry followed after them," she explained hurriedly.

"Henry Robins?" the older agent inquired.

The woman nodded frantically, "I haven't seen them come out,"

Without answering, Gideon began to wander off, absently staring in the direction of the school building. Most of the students and teachers were out by now, but a few were still trickling through the doors. Prentiss stayed behind with the woman to try and gather more information.

Pulling out his phone, Gideon tried to call his youngest agent again. His mind could only wrap itself around the idea that Reid was already dead or worse. He knew that the killer would not hesitate to hurt any adult that stood in his way. Never the children. The classes pouring out of the building were missing no one but Dawn. He would not dare hurt the children.

The line rang and rang, but again it seemed like the call was going to go unanswered. Suddenly there was a click as someone did answer it. No one said anything on the other line though and Gideon felt his heart seize with worry. All he could hear was the breathing of the person on the other line.

"Reid, is everything alright?" Gideon forced himself to ask.

An unfamiliar voice answered, "Reid's not here,"

A feeling of dread settled on the agent as he looked around for his other teammates. Hotch was the closest. Seeing the look on the other man's face, Hotch started to walk towards him. The agent turned his head back to the school.

"Who is this then?"

There was a long pause, long enough for Hotch to appear at his old friend's side. With glances and mouthed words, Gideon passed on what he knew. Reid had at least lost his phone if not something more important.

"I'm Dawn's big brother," came the eventual reply.

"I don't think that's possible Mr. Robins," Gideon replied, "Dawn's an only child."

"Not anymore."

The agent was prepared to answer, but he never got the chance. Mr. Robins continued the conversation with a defensive tone.

"She's mine to protect, not his," he growled, "I won't let him keep her."

Without giving the agent time to reply to the unorthodox statement, he hung up. Gideon closed his phone, doing everything in his power to still his racing heart. If Reid wasn't in danger yet, he was going to be soon. Clearing his throat, Hotch finally spoke up.

"The SWAT team is preparing to take the school," he told the man.

Gideon looked up, seeming distant for a moment. Finally he came to himself and nodded. "We need to tell them to take him alive or we'll lose any chance of finding Travis Miller,"

Nodding Hotch turned to find his way back to the command center. Behind him, Gideon followed, partially in a daze.

* * *

><p>Adrenaline was still rushing through Reid's veins as he pressed his head against the cool metal floor. He paused to listen to the blood pounding in his ears, the sound of Dawn's heavy breathing. The fading sound of the fire alarm echoed beyond. All static compared to the groan he emitted.<p>

"You okay?"

The young girl's voice broke through his thoughts and Reid felt himself looking up at her. She was kneeling over him, concern in her once innocent eyes. He slowly started to get up, waiting for the elevator to move.

"I'm alright, my side hurts, but I'll be fine,"

Truthfully, his side was hurting a lot and a twinge of fire went through it every time he moved. But for once, he learned to keep his mouth shut. Standing up, he stared at the metal door with distaste. He really hated elevators.

"We'll just wait until we get to the second floor and try to slip back downstairs," he began, mostly talking to himself, "Of course, it's likely that he'll be waiting for us,"

A soft voice behind him was startling. "It doesn't matter."

Reid turned to see Dawn sitting in her corner again. She was hugging her arms protectively around herself, looking like she was on the verge of tears.

"Of course it matters. If the gunman is waiting outside, that means we're in danger again," he answered her, perplexed at why an eleven year old wouldn't know that.

There was a long period of silence as the girl stared at him. Her eyes seemed to hold a level of accusation in them as if all of this was his fault. Of course, Reid wasn't entirely sure that wasn't his imagination playing tricks on him.

When the girl looked away awkwardly, he realized that he wasn't understanding her. She wasn't the straight-forward type. More than likely she knew something that she wanted to tell him, but couldn't bring herself to say.

"Why doesn't it matter?" he asked.

Dawn looked up at him, resignation in her fearful eyes. "I dropped the key when I fell."

She held her hands out to show him she wasn't hiding the keys that he had seen her use earlier. At first, Reid didn't catch on. He stared at her absently trying to figure out what she was trying to tell him. Then he put the elevator's lack of movement together with the girl's use of the key. That was when he figured it out.

Dawn decided to explain any way. "It's a handicap elevator. Only kids with crutches and wheelchairs get to use the key and the elevator doesn't run without it,"

Reid looked down at the control panel, seeing a place to put a key to the left of the two buttons. He turned his head back to the little girl.

"And there's no one in the building except…" he trailed off, "So….we're stuck in here until someone finds the key?"

She nodded in reply before laying her head down on her knees. Realizing his hands were shaking with fear, Reid started pacing. His stomach protested the movement and he eventually decided to sit down and wait. He had no phone. No book. His abdomen was roaring with pain. And he was stuck in an elevator with a kid while her family's killer waited outside and no way to contact his teammates.

This day couldn't get any worse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Each BAU member felt determination biting at their souls. As they donned their equipment along with the SWAT team, they used that to their advantage. Each thought about their agent, missing and possibly injured or dead. They thought about Henry Robins' victims. They thought of Travis Miller, being held hostage somewhere with only the knowledge that his parents were not going to help him. And last they thought of Dawn Yates, cornered by the very man she knew killed her parents.

To the SWAT team this may have been another wack-job trying to shoot up a school. To the others, this was personal. Whether the man had intended to hurt the children or protect them, he had threatened a teammate of theirs. Now they would stop at nothing to catch him.

The officer leading the team looked over to Gideon. He did not seem to be keen on following someone else's orders, but unlike most, he seemed willing to listen. Gauging this piece of his personality, Gideon stepped forward. Seeing him, the officer turned his head, waiting.

"Officer Franklin, we have to take this man alive," Gideon stressed each word hoping to convey the urgency to the veteran officer.

The man looked absolutely unbothered by this information. He looked off towards the school, eyes darting around to each of his men. Then he turned back to Gideon and his team, eyeing them with apologetic gazes.

"If he has your agent or that girl close, we may not have a choice," he replied.

Gideon was silent for a moment, pausing to think over what the officer had said. Meanwhile, the man called for his men to make sure they were ready. He turned back to look at the watchful BAU members.

"Reid wouldn't want Travis Miller to be lost forever just so we could save him," was the agent's quiet reply.

Franklin glared at him, but said nothing. He turned away and ordered his team to move out. Turning to the others, Gideon saw that each of his team members had donned their vests and were clenching tightly to their guns. Without a word, they started following behind the SWAT team.

They entered the school with the skilled silence learned over time. Morgan felt strange being in a school with nobody in it. It felt like he had stepped into a ghost town. It was disconcerting to say the least.

As they started through the halls, the entire team held their breath, waiting for any sound to tell them of Robins' whereabouts.

They could only hope that they weren't too late.

* * *

><p>Minutes ticked away with agonizing slowness. Dawn could tell every second and minute that passed with the watch she was wearing. A gift from her father on her eleventh birthday.<p>

In her mind's eye the little girl remembered the past two days. The tragedy that had tore apart her life. The memories flashed through her mind and she felt like she was going to vomit. She forced herself to remember where she was, to remind herself that she was no longer locked up.

Opening her eyes, Dawn remembered alright. She remembered that she _was _still a prisoner. In the last place on earth she would want to be. A solid steel cage, no unlike the one she had escaped from.

Nearby Reid watched the young girl with increasing curiosity. He had said very little, afraid that he would incur 'The Reid Effect' eventually. He wished that she would talk about something, anything to make him forget that they were locked in an elevator with only a gunman as their escape. But Dawn was silent and so was he.

His side was throbbing painfully now and he felt small beads of sweat dripping down his back. He had figured out at least half an hour ago what had happened. Since then he had kept himself from moving at all to keep the pain from getting worse.

"Do you think he's still out there?"

Reid looked up, startled. For the first time since she had explained the accident that got them locked in here, Dawn had spoken. Her voice was shaky with that unmistakable tinge of fear filling it.

Her green eyes never looked away from him. They were piercing, the kind of gaze that made one think someone was looking into your soul. It bothered him a little….or possibly a lot.

The agent didn't want to tell her the truth. The truth was frightening and pessimistic. Unfortunately, he had a suspicion he would not be in good favor with the girl if he lied.

He looked away from Dawn, staring at the silver door blocking their way out.

"His profile indicates that he is persistent in his belief that he is your sole guardian," Reid shifted to better relieve the pain in his side, "He will not give up that easily."

The effect this news had on the young girl was not surprising. She inhaled sharply, covering her face just as he saw the hint of tears starting to well up in the corners.

"We're going to die!" she sniffled, her voice muffled by her hands.

Swallowing Reid tried to think of something to calm the girl down. He found that his mouth was suddenly dry and his thoughts were everywhere in his brain. He could barely think.

"No we're not," he finally forced out.

He waved his hands to keep his nervousness from taking hold. "We just need to stay calm and…and…and…," he waved his left hand at the elevator door, "Wait this out."

The eleven year old looked up at him seriously. Her eyes were frightened and dark.

"Do you think that the guy outside is a figment of my imagination?" she asked, accusingly.

Reid opened his mouth to answer thinking that she was done. On the contrary, she continued on with a further accusation, but not towards him.

"My uncle says he's just a part of my imagination. He told me that what happened wasn't real, that I saw my parents' murderer and ran."

By this time, Dawn had pulled her knees to her chest and was holding them protectively in front of her. A small tear crept down her face as she looked back up at the agent.

"Do you think I imagined everything?" she questioned him with suspicious eyes.

The question caught him off-guard. Spencer Reid had no idea how to handle this situation. Any answer he gave her could have a negative effect on her. The entire accusation made him feel slightly sorry for her.

She may not have remembered exactly what had happened, but she dead set on knowing that she hadn't imagined what had happened. Reid was sure that she had had flashes of memories of what had happened, but she couldn't put them in order.

He looked down at his hands to try and think of an answer. Finally he replied, "It is highly probably that you _could _have imagined all this, but-."

"Really?" Dawn interrupted with a face suddenly etched with extreme curiosity, "Who would imagine something like this? I think I'd rather imagine doing something fun. Something like a day at home, watching old Scooby-Doo re-runs."

Reid found himself chuckling softly and he watched a weak smile appear on the girl's face too.

"What about you?"

The question was a hard one. One that Reid had to think about for a long time. He had many past-times that he loved, but he couldn't picture himself using his imagination to do any of them.

Dawn had moved a little closer, sitting cross legged beside him. Her eyes were wide saucers as she waited patiently for his answer. Reid guessed that he would have to come up with something to make her happy.

And just like that, he had it.

A smile crept onto his face as he remembered. How long had it been since he'd been young enough? He could barely remember. Without noticing it, he let his head lean back against the wall, the smile widening.

"I think I'd imagine myself sitting on my mother's bed, a book in front of me and my mother's voice reading it aloud."

Dawn soaked in Reid's answer like a sponge. She smiled at the thought of it. Her mother had never liked books and had never sat down to read one for herself, much less her daughter. Her father had never been home enough.

"I think I'd like that too," she replied, her eyes glittering happily at the thought.

The silence started in again. Fortunately, Reid had gathered up a little more courage to face his fear of children. So far Dawn had given him no reason to be afraid of her. He needed to keep her calm anyway. He didn't know what could happen if she started panicking.

"Do you like magic tricks?" he suddenly asked.

The enthusiasm that shone in the young girl's eyes reminded him of Christmas morning times infinity. The feeling made him happy inside.

* * *

><p>At the first set of stairs, the rescue team split into two. Gideon, Prentiss, the leader and two other SWAT members started up the stairs while the rest continued on through the first floor. Finding Henry Robins was a breeze. He was practically waiting for them at the top of the stairs.<p>

The man was leaning up against the large windows, looking out over the courtyard below. By now most of the parents had gathered their children and left. A few had stuck around to see the outcome, but the courtyard was emptying out little by little.

"They flock to their children, like good parents should," Robins muttered to himself.

He thought of Dawn and Travis and his siblings Danny and Marcy. Oh how he missed them. How he wished he could have stopped what had to happen. It didn't matter anymore. He wouldn't lose them again. Even if it meant he had to die, he'd make sure that the cops didn't find his little sister. They'd take her home and then the cycle would begin again.

The SWAT team halted near the top of the stairs. Hearing the man's voice, Gideon signaled the team to stop. He pushed past them, lowering his gun as he neared the teacher.

"Henry Robins?"

Without hesitating, he turned around to look at the man who had called his name. He stared for a moment or two, gauging the agent. When he was finished, he leaned back against the window calmly. Gideon noticed that his gun was sitting practically forgotten on the window sill.

"You've come to take them away?" the teacher asked.

Gideon knew exactly what the man was talking about.

"They have families, people who love them," he explained.

Robins snorted. "Their families are no good. They can't protect them."

"Where is Dawn Yates?" Gideon asked, ignoring what the man said.

The teacher said nothing, only stared at the agent as if he had not heard him. He knew what he'd have to do to protect her. He'd have to sacrifice himself to do it. Or at least his freedom.

"You can't protect her. I'm the only one who can protect them," he snapped.

Before Gideon could open his mouth to reply, the teacher tried to make a break for it. The SWAT team made their move, advancing on him. One man tackled the teacher while another cuffed him.

Watching his face, Gideon was disconcerted when he saw Robins' face. He pulled Prentiss aside as they started out of the building, the worry flickering in his eyes.

"He wanted this," he told her.

Prentiss looked surprised. "He tried to make a run for it and you think he wanted to get caught?"

He nodded, his mind already whirring with thoughts. "He was smiling when they were cuffing him."

The fact that their killer wanted to be caught made Gideon's insides turn. He didn't know what the man had planned, but he was sure that he didn't have time to waste.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Thanks a bunch to everyone who has reviewed and favorited this story. I can't tell you how awesome it is to get the alert that someone has reviewed this. **

**Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. A lot of things have been going on and I haven't had time to get on the internet to post the next chapter. XD **

**Hope you enjoy! **

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><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

They searched the entire school. Every classroom was gone through, every office. They even checked the basement, but there was no sign of Dawn or Reid. Feeling their part of the job was done, the SWAT team pulled out, taking Henry Robins with them back to the station.

The entire place was cleared out by the time they finished their search. The families thought everything was over. With the suspect caught, they assumed nothing interesting was going to happen from here on. Even the news crews, who had not been privy to the information that one of the agents and a student was still missing, were leaving.

Only the teachers and the BAU team remained. The teachers returned to the building to prepare for the next day while the agents conversed with each other to make sure that they hadn't missed anything.

"Are we sure we checked the entire school?" Gideon asked, "Did we find any clues to point us in their direction?"

"We only found Reid's phone which Robins had with him," replied Morgan, holding up the electronic for the rest to see.

"Which means Reid either dropped it or came in contact with Robins long enough for him to take it," Hotch put in.

The team nodded. Gideon added, "Robins was trying to mislead us, he either has no idea where they are or he does and he's trying to throw us off."

When he received strange looks from the others, he explained his observation that Robins had been smiling. If he had wanted to be caught and considering his dramatic attempt to run, he had been trying to draw attention to himself and away from something.

"We checked every classroom, office and bathroom upstairs," Prentiss said.

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest as he thought. "Well, what about the elevator, he was standing right outside, do you think they could've possibly hidden in there?"

The eldest agent was already shaking his head. His mind seemed elsewhere, staring off into space as was his nature.

"The elevator is handicap-access only. You need a key to make it work and Principal Hagen said that it was still on the ring," he told them.

There was silence as the team members pondered on this realization. They were back to square one then. Reid and Dawn were still missing; they had checked everywhere and the school and they were nowhere to be found.

"Do you think they might have gone outside?" Prentiss asked.

Hotch knew that it was possible, but he knew something else as well. "Reid would have come around front, try to get back to the station,"

Morgan was picking up on the thought trail that Prentiss had been going down. He felt his heart seize at the thoughts going through his brain.

"Not if he couldn't."

The rest of the team picked up on what he meant instantly. They had received the witness reports that Robins had shot his gun in two different places, once in the office and again in the hall. Gideon's eyes lost the faraway look; he looked up at the others.

"Alright, Hotch, Prentiss," he pointed at the two agents, "Search outside for Reid and Dawn."

He turned to Morgan, "We're going back to talk to Robins, we still need to find Travis."

"Speaking of which, Garcia called, she said she was searching through Robins' financials and information, so we may have an address for him soon."

The agent nodded before watching the others walk towards the other side of the school. He was worried, they all were. Reid or Dawn could be hurt and he assumed they had no way of contacting anyone for help. Nevertheless, they needed to focus on Robins' other victims too. Travis Miller would be alone, frightened and no one knew what sadistic measures the man had gone through to keep the children in line.

Despite his supposedly 'protective nature', Gideon knew that their suspect had to have some way to keep the children controlled. He just couldn't figure out how. Talking to Robins was their only course of action now.

* * *

><p>Magic enthused people of all ages, Reid discovered. The young girl was enthralled by his tricks and even showed him a few of her own. He was startled that the eleven year old had any skill at all. One trick even ended up with him losing a quarter.<p>

Eventually, Dawn had relaxed. They even started a small conversation about what they liked to do. Reid had an idea; one that he was hoping would work to his advantage. He didn't think he could get the young girl this untroubled again. So while they kept talking he thought of how to move the conversation in the right direction.

When she mentioned something about enjoying running for fun, he took his chance.

"Did you take a run the other night?" he asked her.

Dawn seemed oblivious to the change in the conversation as she attempted to cop one of Reid's paper tricks. "Yes."

The agent felt his spirits rise a little. Maybe he could get the entire story without upsetting Dawn too much. That way he could prove that the girl had been snatched or not.

"Did you run before or after you saw your parents?" he asked her.

The girl wasn't as oblivious as he thought she was. Her fingers froze her body stiffening. In his head, Reid cursed himself. Now the girl would close up again and they would never know.

But he was wrong. Dawn didn't clamp up. In fact, she turned her head up to him, eyes examining him closely. The gaze made him a little uneasy and he let out a relieved sigh when she looked back down at her hands.

"Can you keep a secret?" she asked, softly.

Reid knew that he didn't have the ability to keep even the smallest of secrets. Fortunately, he knew better than to let that piece of information known.

"Of course," he lied, feeling a little bad as he did so. He comforted himself by remembering that this would help her.

There was a long pause. Reid didn't dare break the silence though. He feared that if he did, Dawn wouldn't say anything. He had to be patient, which wasn't one of his strongest virtues.

"I went with him," she whispered.

A shiver went down the little girl's spine as she remembered. Reid could see the faraway look in her eyes, the look that people had when they recalled events.

"What happened?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet, making it sound like he really wasn't there.

"He promised he'd protect me," she told him, "We went to his house and he made Mac and cheese."

She froze for a moment, her mouth still partially open. Reid urged her on encouragingly.

"He gave me a blue pill like my dad did, said it was to help me sleep," she continued.

Dawn grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly. "I didn't take it; I tricked him like I do everyone."

That explained a lot about what had happened so far and why the girl hadn't acted like he'd expected. Mr. Yates thought she had been taking her Ritalin, when in fact she hadn't had a dose for over a month. The crime scene notes reported finding over twenty-five days' worth of Ritalin hidden in the young girl's room. At home, she hadn't taken her medication and at her uncle's she didn't either.

"We went downstairs and he put me to bed and left," she told the agent.

By this time, the little girl had a look of utter fear across her face. She grabbed Reid's arm and clutched it tightly. He cringed when it moved his side, but tried not to make a sound so that he didn't interrupt her. Her breathing was heavy, but he paid little attention to anything other than the words she was saying.

"I was afraid of going to sleep," she continued, her voice growing hoarse, "There was so much blood, all-all-"

She started choking, her breath becoming increasingly ragged. Reid pulled away, wincing as he stomach protested with its own shock of pain. The girl was gasping and he realized instantly what was happening. He remembered reading the paper, the picture of the words written on her medical records flashing through his brain. Severe asthma.

"Where's your rescue inhaler?" he asked her.

Dawn shook her head, the fear written all over her face. She was trying, struggling with all her will to take a full breath. Her chest rose and fell in quick succession. Reid could only guess that she didn't have it with her. More than likely in her classroom with everything else.

The agent stared up at the little girl. The plea in her eyes was too much. He shook with fear of his own. He didn't know what to do. Without a rescue inhaler he could only wait until she stopped breathing and then attempt CPR. Or he could try something else.

Gently Reid leaned forward, using his right arm to pull Dawn's shoulders back against the wall. He felt awkwardly close to her, but it was the only way to make this work. His imagination was playing tricks on him again, he hoped. The girl's face looked practically blue.

"Listen to my breathing Dawn, focus on that," he told her.

A small tear was rushing down the little girl's face as she shook her head. "I-I ca-can't," she forced out.

Dawn's body was shaking as she gasped, repeating the words 'I can't over and over.

"Eleven people die from asthma every day," he told her, stumbling as he realized he probably wasn't helping, "If you don't breathe, you'll become one of those eleven, but it's just a number Dawn!"

The girl stopped trying to talk as Reid forced his breathing to even out. Tears poured down her face as she struggled to follow the pattern. Reid helped by vocalizing it.

"Inhale…hold….exhale…inhale….hold….exhale…," he intoned.

Dawn's breath stuttered in and out. She clenched onto Reid's arm tighter. Luckily he had forgotten about the pain in his side for the moment. All he could focus on was his own breathing and making sure that Dawn copied it.

He wasn't even sure if it would work. And as the sands in her imaginary hourglass drizzled slowly out, Reid couldn't get the echo of her gasping for air to exit his ears.

* * *

><p>Robins didn't look at him. In fact, he avoided all eye contact with everyone. He looked at his shoes when he was brought in and at the table, he stared at his hands. He didn't answer any of the questions that Morgan asked nor did he ask for a lawyer.<p>

When Morgan was finished questioning the man, he walked into the viewing room where Gideon had been watching. Once again, he had that faraway look in his eye he got when he was putting pieces of a puzzle together in his head.

"What's on your mind, boss?" Morgan asked.

"Why he let himself get caught," came the reply.

Gideon turned around, leaning against the glass with his arms crossed over his chest. "He knows what's going to happen to him, that's why he won't answer any questions, he knows he's already been caught,"

The agent looked over his shoulder at Robins. The man was still staring at the desk. His lips were moving as if he was talking to himself. He was muttering the same thing over and over. Gideon's eyes widened in realization.

He pushed himself off of the window and exited the viewing room. Startled, Morgan watched him leave. A moment later, he appeared in the interrogation room. He slammed the door behind him, on purpose. The teacher jumped, spinning around in his chair. For the first time, his eyes glanced away from his fingers. When he saw who it was, Robins chuckled.

"Still looking?" he asked him.

Gideon did not answer him. "Your freedom for theirs," the agent redirected.

The teacher blinked in surprise. He looked up at Gideon as the agent walked closer.

"You think that by giving yourself up, that you'll ruin our chances of finding them," he stated.

The agent stated it as if it wasn't a question, but already a known fact. He was rewarded with the expected response. Robins' lips upturned a little.

"As long as I'm here, they'll always be there, safe from you," he replied.

Gideon rounded the table, looking closely at Robins.

"You can't protect them while you're in here. What if someone else finds Dawn or Travis? What if they take them away? How can you protect them then?"

Robins leaned forward. "Dawn's too clever to be taken and Travis is hidden deep."

The agent opened up the file that Morgan had left purposely on the table. He pulled two official looking documents and peered closely at them.

"The Jones' family was being investigated for child abuse," Gideon told the teacher, "Did you know that?"

"Of course I know that!" Robins snapped, "The entire faculty was informed."

"Only you decided to take action against them, right?" the agent asked.

Robins looked down at his hands again. "CPS was going to close the case, no hard evidence, but I knew it was true!"

Gideon was leaning across the table. "So you killed them and took Eva as your own," he snapped, "But Eva didn't like you, did she, Mr. Robins. She was frightened of you, she wanted to go home."

A picture slipped its way out of the folder and Gideon gently pushed it towards the teacher.

"So you killed her."

Horror flashed across Robins' face. The remorse in his eyes made Gideon even more repulsed. If the teacher had really cared, he'd never have made a hand to hurt the children. He kept this thought to himself though.

"I had to do it," he whispered.

"Not with Travis, he doesn't have to end up like this," Gideon said.

Robins tensed up. He leaned back in his seat and stared up at the agent.

"This is what happens in the real world," the teacher said, "He's safer where he is."

Anger boiled through the agent. He opened his mouth to reply, but Morgan interrupted him. Leaning inside the door, he was trying hard to keep from showing the momentary happiness on his face. Gideon walked outside, leaving Robins smiling as he disappeared into the hall. The door to the interrogation room shut behind him.

"Garcia pinned down an address for Mr. Jekyll in there," he told him.

The older man nodded. "Send an entry team, go with them and check it out."

Morgan nodded and rushed off. This was a bigger step forward, but Gideon could not make himself feel any better about the situation. Even if they were lucky and Travis was found at Robins' place, Reid was still missing.

Nothing could make him feel anything, but upset until his agent was found, safe and unhurt.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: I am so very sorry for taking so long to get this chapter up. My mom took off with my computer for days and then I had college orientation. I haven't had a chance to do anything on here for a good while. But here it is…FINALLY!**

**Once again I want to thank all those who have read and also reviewed this story. We're getting closer to the end now. I just hope it's a happy one. XD**

**Enjoy!**

**Edited on July 16, 2011 11:37 EST due to factual errors. Thank you to Coconut Rum for pointing it out and offering me some clarity. I owe you. :-^)**

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><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

The house was empty of all living beings. Henry Robins didn't even own a dog. Morgan had helped clear the house and he now stood in the living room, a feeling of uneasiness settling over him. Robins' house was spotless. Everything was specifically arranged and placed the way the man wanted it. There was no evidence that he'd done it to cover up anything, the man has been this way all his life.

His living room consisted of four main furniture pieces. A sofa with no pillows facing a 32 inch television sitting on a stand against the wall. Beside the sofa was wooden inn table with a television remote and a framed photograph. Morgan picked up the picture frame and looked at it sourly.

"Sick bastard," he growled, placing the picture back down on the table.

Officer Houser stepped behind him, peering over the agent's shoulder at the photograph. The picture was of Henry Robins and his homeroom class. All of his child-aged victims were in the picture along with other members of the class.

"You been downstairs yet?" Houser asked, trying to pry his attention from the picture.

Morgan turned around, barely startled to find the officer waiting behind him. Houser was a lot easier to work with when he was being civilized. He shook his head no. He had helped clear the first floor. Houser informed him that there was nothing to be found in the basement. It was just as spotless as the upstairs, which for a basement was a little unsettling.

The agent racked his mind for clues, thinking back to the interrogation with Robins. The man had told them that Travis was hidden deep. How deep was deep? If he wasn't in the basement, where in the word would the teacher have taken the kid?

A vague thought wandered into Morgan's brain. What if Robins had buried the kid alive? The thought was disproved as quickly as it had entered his thoughts. Their suspect wanted to protect the children and though he had a strange way of doing it, he was sure that burying the child would send some red flags up in his psychotic mind.

Morgan wandered the house, stepping past other officers as they examined the scene. He ended up stopping in the teacher's room. Here the man had made up his bed like a hospital. A shiver went down Morgan's back when he stopped to think about what kind of childhood would teach a child to be so nitpicky. His clothes were all hung up and arranged. Nothing was out of place. No sign that any of the children had even been here.

"I think we found something!"

The voice was coming from outside. Neither Morgan nor Houser hesitated to rush down the stairs. Outside, Robins' method of arrangement and cleanliness disappeared. The house almost looked abandoned from down the road. Half of the yard looked like it hadn't been mowed in months and the other half was nothing but red mud.

An Albemarle police officer waited outside what looked like an old tornado cellar. He was making great attempts to calm down his agitated police dog.

"Someone's in there," he told the two when they were within earshot.

Morgan nodded, bringing his gun into his hand. The cellar door had been chained closed with an old lock. They had to wait for another officer to bring the right tools to cut it open. It was harrowing to wait, but they did it all in silence. When the chain finally snapped, it clattered to the ground, shattering the silence. Signaling the two officers behind him, he counted off to three with his fingers. At the end of his countdown, he threw open the doors, moving aside so that Houser could go first.

In a matter of seconds, he followed behind into the darkness. His gun was raised in one hand, his flashlight poised in the other. Moldy air bombarded his nostrils as they descended.

_Travis Miller, please be here. _

They were running out of places to look.

* * *

><p>All sense of time left Dawn as she struggled for air. Her mind wrapped around two things, the breathing of the agent and his voice as he intoned the breathing pattern for her. Fear beat in her heart. She'd always been afraid of moments like this. Her air choked off and she floundered. Like a drowning person except with more pain and less scenery.<p>

In all reality, she thought he'd lost a few French fries. How crazy did someone have to be to think that an asthmatic could survive an attack without their inhaler? Then he'd snapped at her and she realized something. She didn't want to die. She didn't want to have gone through all of this for nothing. The memory of her parents arose and her mind, except this time she wasn't frightened of the blood. Dawn took the image of their lifeless bodies and used them as motivation. I don't want to end up silent.

So, she forced herself to breathe. At first, it was like trying to use a straw when your finger was covering the other side. A moment later, she inhaled, forcing the breath to finish the entire trip into her lungs. Deep breaths, she reminded herself. Eventually, she realized that she was breathing normally again and that her chest felt a little less constricted.

Taking one last deep breath, she let her head press against the cool metal of the elevator.

"I'm better now," she told Reid hoarsely.

The agent forced a pained smile. "I'm glad."

Reid felt like his insides were burning again. Pressing the girl against his side had strained his severed muscles. He started to regret letting the emotion pass through his defenses. Being the inquisitive one that she was, Dawn picked up on it quickly.

"You okay?" she asked her tone as serious as an eleven-year-old could muster.

He could have been able to lie to her. Licking his chapped lips he tried to come up with something, but he was interrupted by her sudden cry.

"You're bleeding!"

Reid looked up at her then followed her gaze down to his side. Sure enough, she'd seen what he had been trying valiantly to hide from her. He must have moved his bag from his side when he had tried to calm her down. She was right though. A stain of red blood was flowering slowly across the side of his shirt.

Tears started welling up in Dawn's eyes. She could feel the panic rising in her all over again. Remembering the blood all over the floor in her house, stumbling through it as she watched her teacher. Reid saw the look in her eyes and made an attempt to calm her again.

"We'll be fine Dawn, alright, I've had worse than this," he told her.

It was true. He could remember times when he'd been in worse pain. Of course, he wasn't sure if that automatically meant that they were going to be alright.

"It doesn't go back in," she sniffled.

Reid looked at her, opening his mouth to speak. "What do you mean?"

"I tried to put mom and dad's back in, it didn't work."

The agent tried to keep from chuckling at the inane thoughts of an eleven year old. Instead, he chose to make her feel a little bit better about the predicament she was aware of.

"The average adult body has ten pints of blood, I would have to lose at least 50% of that to die," he told her, "That will take a lot longer than two hours."

Dawn was unconvinced. The agent sighed and continued putting pressure against the wound with his jacket. He cringed at the wave of pain that went through his side when he touched the wound. He was just passing time now. A fine layer of sweat had already begun to form and droplets were already dripping down his back. Reid was sure that if anyone looked and was paying attention, he would look extremely pale.

Lucky for him, Dawn didn't pay that much attention.

* * *

><p>Hotch ignored the hopeless feeling starting to eat at him. He felt like his agent had fallen off the edge of the earth. Something about it all made him feel terrible. After all, it had been his order that had brought Reid here. Against his better judgment too. Reid might have had other reasons for not wanting to come to the school, but he was right to think that there was danger.<p>

The supervisory agent cursed himself inwardly, countering his original argument. Robins would have gotten away if it hadn't been for Reid. He was sure that Reid and Dawn were together, wherever they were. He just wished that it wasn't so hard to find out where they were. Prentiss and Hotch had split up to cover more ground, but the playground was empty. They had walked a little ways to the edge of the school property where a forest settled.

It was highly unlikely that Reid would have taken Dawn with him this far. If he'd been hurt, he would have stayed closer to the building or gone around to the front. He wouldn't have moved so far off. Turning to survey his surroundings, Hotch realized they were at a dead end.

Every place that wasn't too unlikely was easy to see. Everything was open leaving nowhere to hide except possibly inside the slide. However, Prentiss had already checked there. Reid and Dawn had pulled the greatest disappearing act and Hotch wished that he didn't have to feel so guilty.

A vibration coursed up his leg as his phone started to ring. Pulling it off its clip, Hotch answered the phone. Gideon's voice on the other end informed him of a small piece of good news. Travis Miller had been found. He was dehydrated, hungry and calling for his mommy, but other than that he was alive and well. Then Gideon's voice grew somber.

"Any sign of Reid or Dawn?"

"None," Hotch replied, equally as upset. The agent took a deep breath, eyes taking in everything in one collective glance. "I hate to say it, but there's no way they could have hidden out here. Everything's open except the woods."

"He wouldn't have gone that far," Gideon offered, thoughtfully.

There was a long pause. Hotch took a long, deep breath, savoring the cool air in his lungs.

"Prentiss and I are going to check through the school again, see if we missed anything."

Gideon agreed. As he hung up, Hotch tried not to think about what the result of finding nothing in the school again.

On the other side of the schoolyard, Prentiss was scouting the edge of the tree line. She was startled when he supervisor came up behind her, his steps crunching leaved in his wake.

"Anything?" he asked her.

She replied with a shake of her head. The look in her eyes told him that she knew what he was feeling too. They were running out of time.

"They found Travis Miller, he's being taken to the hospital right now," he informed her.

Prentiss nodded, glad to hear that the boy had been found alright. Unfortunately, she was finding it hard to pull her mind away from Reid. She could only imagine what he might be going through. Whether he was hurt or not, he had to have stuck close to Dawn. Or at least she hoped he had. If they had been separated, there was no telling how long it would take to find one of them. If they ever did.

Presenting his idea of looking through the school again, Hotch gave her a new set of thoughts. They had nothing, no clues, and no evidence. Nothing to tell them where their lost agent and an eleven-year-old orphan had gone.

As they headed back towards the school, eyes open for anything that could help them, the two agents were imagining a clock ticking their deadlines away. Who knew how long Reid and Dawn had left? If they weren't gone already.


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: I feel like a terrible person right now, having made you wait for almost two months for this update. **

**I upgraded my default writing program to Microsoft Office and forgot to convert my files for this fanfiction and a few others. Not realizing this, I deleted the other program. When I went to post the next chapter, I found that I could not open the file and it was useless. **

**Long story short, I lost the last two chapters, had to get ready for college and have had little to no time or motivation to write anything. Now I finally have something to give you. XD**

**Enjoy! **

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>

The elevator was plagued by silence. Reid and Dawn had talked as long as possible about the case and his wound until the young girl had become upset again. In an attempt to keep her from having another attack, he'd changed topics to something lighter.

Eventually they exhausted their attempts to find topics to make small talk about. Most of the things Reid would talk about would have gone far beyond the girl's understanding. Dawn focused on the less important things of life, having a child's view of the world. Nevertheless, this meant she ran out of interesting things to talk about really quickly.

Now it was quiet and Reid tried to keep it from feeling too eerie. He kept looking across the boxed in area to make sure that the elementary school student was alright. She had been drifting in and out of sleep for thirty-minutes at least.

The FBI agent would have tried to get some sleep too had he not been afraid of never waking up. His pulse was higher than it should have been, causing a vein on his neck to throb. The pain in his abdomen was caught between bearable and unbearable. He was getting used to the feeling of the gunshot, but as time passed, it started to throb more and more. Blood covered most of the bottom half of his shirt and a good portion of his jacket.

The bleeding had not stopped, but the flow had weakened. Reid was grateful, while being somewhat skeptical. He looked around the elevator, lit only by an emergency light. His eyes seemed to be playing tricks on him now. Little black spots played at the edges of his vision. If he hadn't been too scared to admit it, he would have said the darkness was growing darker.

Dawn jumped up suddenly, a scream cutting off just as soon as it left her throat. It made a more of a squeaking sound that caused the agent to jump back, his heart skittering in rapid, uneven beats. The little girl turned her apologetic gaze on him for only a moment before leaning back against the wall.

Her eyes closed and the silence returned. But this time, it did not stay for long. Reid was just beginning his zillionth examination of the elevator doors when Dawn's voice pierced the quiet.

"Reid?"

He turned to look at her. She had not opened her eyes, yet. For a moment, he thought he might have imagined her speaking. Only one way to find out, he thought.

"Yes?"

Dawn's eyes flew open and she met his eyes for a moment before looking down at her hands.

"I'm sorry."

The apology threw him off guard. He had to pause and think about what was happening before he replied. As an aside, he was bothered that his thoughts seemed so sluggish.

"Why?" he forced out, after another moment of silence. He really did not like how long it took to get one word out.

The young girl picked at a loose string on the knee of her jeans. "You're in this mess because of me," she told him, her voice solemn.

Reid shook his head, regretting it almost instantly. The spots on his eyes burst in waves and then returned to their steady movements. He tried to make what he said next reassuring, but he didn't feel very reassured himself.

"It's not your fault. It's Robins'."

Dawn looked up at him. Her face held a sense of panic that he had seen very few times before. Right before someone realized they were going to die. Her voice wavered as she tried to speak, "We can't get out of here, and they'll never realize we're in here until it's too late."

Her words sent a chill coursing down the agent's spine. Granted he had not felt very warm since he'd been shot, but this cold seeped deep into his bones and gave him an sensation of fear that he'd never felt before.

"There are people looking for us, they'll find us soon," he told her, trying to sound encouraging, but failing when his words slurred a little.

For once, Reid did not believe the words coming out of his mouth. The girl seemed really intent about their low probability of being found and it was contagious. Mostly because he could feel the last of his strength fading quickly. He was surprised he had not lost consciousness yet.

Tears were dripping down the student's cheeks and she tried to brush them away with her hands. She did not give up in her pursuit, even if it seemed absolutely impossible that she'd be able to stop the tears.

"The key I had was a copy. My uncle works at a hardware store. They'll never think to look here even if they find my key," she told him, pausing to take a shaky breath, "They'll just think it's to my house or something, since they have the school's key."

He tried not to let the sliver of new information bother him, but it did. Reid found himself brooding about it. Dawn was right to feel hopeless about this. If the school had the key, no one would think twice of anyone being in the elevator.

Unfortunately, Reid did not have time to let his mind be bothered with such issues. The spots on his eyes suddenly expanded and he felt the world spinning underneath and around him.

"Reid!"

Dawn's voice sounded loud and far away.

_Did the elevator start?_ he wondered.

Something started shaking him and he heard Dawn yelling at him. He found himself unable to ask her stop as pain surged through his body, centered from his side. And a sudden realization occurred to him.

_How did I end up on the floor? _was the last thought he had before a silent void pulled him in.

* * *

><p>The empty hallways of the school seemed no less eerie to the agents than when they had first entered. In fact they seemed more sinister in the fact that the walls hid the secret behind their missing agent. Prentiss could not help but wonder what they were missing. There was no way that Reid could have gotten that far. Unless….The woman pushed the sudden thoughts away. She did not have time to brood about what <em>might<em> have happened. She needed to find out what really had happened.

Following Hotch back upstairs, she found herself pausing at the elevator. Morgan had mentioned something about it and she almost voiced her thoughts to her supervisor, but decided against it. Had Gideon not dispelled the theory?

Something glinted in the corner of her eye, pulling her attention away from the steel doors. The glint originated from the far corner of the room. The sound of her shoes hitting the linoleum echoed down the halls making her shiver at the strangeness of it.

Bending down, she picked up what looked like a key. The key was hanging from a chain, as if the owner had used it as a necklace.

"You got something?" Hotch asked.

Prentiss turned to look over her shoulder. The man had moved on down the hall ahead of her. When she had not followed, he'd turned back. Straightening up, she held her find out for him to see.

"A key?" he muttered, as he turned the object in his hand, "Might just be someone's house key, they might have dropped it in the confusion,"

Both of them accepted this theory, but they filed the key into their minds. Handing it back to Prentiss, Hotch told her that he'd found nothing down the hallway. She nodded solemnly. If something had happened to Reid, none of the agents would be able to keep going on as normal. They would fall apart.

They were starting down the stairs when she heard it. A faint cry that seemed almost as distant as the stars. She laid a hand on Hotch's shoulder, stopping him from taking another step.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

They paused, both of them holding their breath. The sound was almost like static in the air. Probably from the air conditioner. The agent almost nearly wrote it off as that until she suddenly made out the words.

_REID! _

"I think its Dawn," she told the other agent before hurrying down the stairs.

The cries grew louder as she reached the first floor. She paused, stepping in different directions until she found where the sound was the loudest. Without realizing it, she found herself standing outside the elevator. Blood pumping in her ears, she was vaguely aware of Hotch's presence behind her.

Pressing her ear against the metal doors, she found the cries grew much louder. They were coming from inside the mechanism. The panic in the girl's voice was enough to rattle her nerves, but she pushed that aside as she looked over her shoulder.

"There's someone in there," she told Hotch.

Before he could answer, she slammed her fists against the door. The yells on the other side stuttered into silence. Hotch brought his ear close to the metal too. "Dawn, Reid, are you in there?"

A moment later a faint voice called back. "We're here," the voice told her, "You have to hurry, Reid's hurt pretty bad."

The color drained out of Prentiss' face. She looked over at Hotch who looked just as worried as she. They thought for a moment of what to do before Hotch remembered.

"The key. They have it in the office," he said, his words pouring from his lips before he had enough time to even comprehend his words.

Prentiss was gone before he could say anything else. He heard the girl on the other side calling Reid's name. He tried not to think about what had happened and how hurt his agent was. Instead he forced himself to take it in stride, calm and collected.

"Dawn!" he called, "We're going to get you two out of there, alright."

There was a small-voiced agreement on the other side. It did nothing to calm his nerves. Nor to make him feel any better. Especially when Dawn added frantically, "He's stopped breathing!"

Hotch felt his heart seize. _We're too late,_ he thought.


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: I cannot believe that this is the last chapter. I'm sad to say that it is the end of the story. **

**I want to thank all of you who have read, reviewed, favorited or did anything to support me and this fanfic. I am so glad that you have enjoyed the story thus far. **

**Not sure if I will have another Criminal Minds fanfiction any time soon, but I won't mark it off completely. **

**Thanks again to you all. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>

Frightened tears streamed down Dawn's pale face. She kept shaking a breathless Reid, frantically trying to revive him.

"No, no, no!" she screamed, her voice echoing in the enclosed space, "Wake up!"

Outside the door, Hotch stood, his face an impassive mask as he tried to hide the dread creeping into his heart. Dawn's screams sent shivers down his spine and he tried helplessly to calm her. He wasn't sure the little girl could even hear him.

They had to hurry; no one could tell how hurt Reid was until they opened the elevator. But the longer he wasn't breathing….Hotch tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. Reid was tougher than he seemed, he would pull through this.

He had to.

Visions of blood and death flashed through Dawn's mind. There was blood covering her living room floor, her parents naked and lifeless lying in the middle. She felt herself slipping again, sliding through the blood as she tried to press the puddles of crimson against her mother's maimed skin. The fear coursed through her all over again as she remembered how her teacher had grabbed her, lifting her up and away from the destruction of her family.

They were gone. Forever. Nothing was going to bring them back to her. But she wasn't about to let anyone else leave her now.

Gripping the agent's shirt in her fists, she put all her strength in lifting him. His torso just barely lifted off the floor as she screamed for him to wake up. Her sobs became painful hiccups and she realized that blood covered her hands. The sticky feeling of death clotted on her fingers and her breath choked in her throat. Nothing but a wheeze escaped.

Muscles tensing in preparation for the attack, Dawn unknowingly released Reid's shirt. The man's shoulders slammed back into the metal floor with a soft thud. Gasping and wheezing, Dawn leaned back, fearful as breathing became more and more difficult.

A hand gripped her wrist and she nearly jumped sky-high. Reid's tired voice gurgled one word.

"Breathe."

Dawn looked down at him. The man was staring up at her through eyes clenched tight with pain.

"Breathe," he repeated.

The little girl felt a weak smile creep onto her face. Something happened and she found herself trying to keep the laughter in her throat from escaping. Other than a funeral, this could have been the worst time possible to start laughing. Dawn just felt the need to laugh suddenly. And laugh she did.

At first it was a quiet, but then it grew. Soon Reid even joined it with a soft chuckle of his own. That was how the FBI found them, laughing hysterically at Death.

The rest was a blur.

Reid was whisked away by a pair of paramedics who were waiting for the doors to be opened. Prentiss, in an attempt to give herself time to calm down, went to return the key. Hotch collected Dawn, who shied away at first.

The man held out his hand for her to take, softly telling her who he was. Shakily, Dawn grabbed his hand and let him guide her out of the school building.

The ambulance was driving away as they stepped outside, Prentiss joining them moments later.

"Is Reid going to be okay?" she asked.

Hotch nodded. "He'll pull through,"

"He always does," Prentiss put in.

Dawn nodded, climbing into the back of the huge car. As the car drove away, Dawn felt safe for the first time in a long time.

* * *

><p>Reid woke to a brightly lit room, which he soon realized was in a hospital. There was a faint beeping noise to his right, the sound of heavy breathing from himself. In the distance there were footsteps, probably outside the room. And everything smelled like antiseptic.<p>

He opened his eyes slowly; sleep weighing heavily on his eyelids still. Mentally, he prodded his physical and mental state. He must have been given some good medication because he did not hurt as he had before. Unless he was dead.

The thought neither comforted nor bothered him. In fact, he took in in stride. Death was a natural part of the human life cycle.

Sitting up, he felt a small cringe in his abdominal muscles. It was not enough to keep him from moving, but enough to make him a little uncomfortable.

"Easy there, tiger."

The man turned his head to find Gideon towering over him. Accustomed to listening to the man's orders, Reid laid back down, turning his head to look at his surroundings. Gideon had been sitting in the chair next to him, waiting for him to wake up no doubt. Reid would say nothing, but he was grateful for the agent's concern for him. Beside Gideon's seat was another, which was also occupied.

Dawn had her knees pulled close to her chest, her arms hidden under his bloody jacket. Her eyes were closed and her steady breathing told Reid that she was asleep.

Seeing where his gaze had landed, Gideon turned his head too. Then he looked back at Reid.

"After the hospital checked her out, she wouldn't let her uncle take her home. Told him she wouldn't leave until she knew you were okay."

Reid smiled and nodded. "I gave her a scare."

Gideon chuckled. A few moments later, the rest of the team arrived to ask him how he was doing. Hours passed until soon the visitors dwindled, most unwilling to go, but knowing that they could not all stay. By the time visiting hours were over, only Gideon, Hotch and Dawn remained.

Dawn was practicing a few magic tricks with Reid, frustrated that she could not manage some of them. Others were easier because of her smaller fingers. As Reid showed her the quarter trick again, her uncle showed up.

She got up, telling the three agents good-bye one by one. Afterwards, she followed her uncle to the stairs, soon disappearing form Reid's line of sight. Hotch was starting to say his good-byes, telling Reid that he would be back in the morning when Dawn reappeared.

She was breathless, sounding like she had just run up a few flights. Walking up to Reid, she held out her hand. Hanging from her fingers was the copy of the elevator key. Hesitantly, the young agent took it.

"I want you to have it. To remember. I don't think I'll need it anymore," she told him.

Hugging him good-bye, she left the room. Reid smiled as he slipped the chain around his neck and looked closely at the key. Hotch and Gideon shook their heads, each smiling as well.

"Good night, Reid," Hotch said as he left the room.

"Night, Hotch."

As he drifted to sleep later that night, Reid realized that he loved his job.

And he wasn't afraid of kids.


End file.
